A New Day

Good morrow, fair gentles! Guess who's back? It's been almost a year since we last spoke, but there is so much speaking to be done! This past year has seen me, at least on paper, go through quite a bit of growth. What kind of growth, you ask? Fine, I'll tell you, but only because you demanded it. Let's see, when we last spoke, I was:

- a wee 25 years and 11 months young. 

- not too far removed from my last go around as a Textbook Temp at the MU Bookstore. I'd been graduated from Mizzou for over 3 years at this point. 

- working two part-time jobs that I didn't love (one of which I actively hated by the end), with nary a sign of a career in front of me.

- struggling to live with 3 young college-aged roommates that I didn't know in a college student apartment facility. It was not my favorite residential experience of my young adulthood, but the clubhouse often had cookies, so we'll count this as a win. 

- still having no idea what it was like to have my own car. Halfway through my 20s. The lines of ladies waiting to date me rarely lined up at my bus stops. 

- haphazardly meandering along through a love life that can only be described up until that point as a comedy of errors. But an unintentional comedy, like a movie that so egregiously butchers its own genre that it can only be seen as sabotage in hindsight.

So yeah, you could say I was pretty awesome at life already. That goes without saying. But not long after my last post here, I had a come-to-God moment that activated a change in my life. It was just time for the wheels of change to be set in motion (and if said wheels could no longer be attached to public transportation, all the better.) But if you're ready, let me tell you where those wheels have taken me since...

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A month after my last post, I turned 26. I can't speak for all 26 year olds, but this birthday smacked me square in the mouth. Up until this point, 30 still seemed so far away, but the minute I hit the 25th anniversary of the 1 year anniversary of my expulsion from my mother's birth canal, I felt 30 breathing down my neck (RUDE). Suddenly, I was blurring the line between lovable post-college scamp still finding his way and that bum in everyone's friend group that never figures anything out and people learn to just tolerate. I mean, luckily, I have a dynamite personality and am moderately useful in trivia contests, but still, gross. Some would argue that I'd been blurring that line for years already, but their opinions weren't taken for the survey I was running at the time. 

Okay, so there was no survey. Shame on you guys for making me say it. 

But still, you see the issue. Fortunately, right before my birthday, my vocational doldrums were remedied when I stumbled onto a job opportunity at a local preschool. Having worked with children in some capacity since I was able to work legally, this was in my wheelhouse. While at the time (and even sometimes now at times), I'd hardly qualify myself as a "teacher," it became my new job. I was really more of an assistant to my classroom's lead teacher, but still, I now had something that could be perceived on paper as a career (provided that you're willing to squint a little), complete with consistent full-time hours and benefits! These were amenities to which I was not yet accustomed, even at my age, so this was a big step for me. And because I'd always wanted a job that allowed me to work and play with small children all day, I loved it from day one. I couldn't believe someone was paying me to do this. Suckers! I would have done it for free! 

After a few months, I eventually moved on to a similar teaching position at a different preschool, and though the adjustment was not a small or brief one, the rewarding feeling has yet to subside, especially once I found my groove in the new environment. This second teaching job bestowed upon me a little more day-to-day responsibility in my classroom and input into the academic regimen, which was both nice and terrifying at first. But I'm grateful for it because it's allowed me to grow so much, both as a person and a "teacher," and there's a certain catharsis and pride that comes from looking over a classroom full of students knowing that your involvement is partially integral to their lives and learning, as well as the whole school's success. DAMN, it feels good to be a gangsta. 

I also soon moved out of the apartment complex where I was living and into a nicer townhome with some friends of mine. My previous roommates weren't the worst guys in the world for the most part, but there is simply no comparison between living somewhere with people you barely know in passing and living with friends of yours. It's not even close. With two of my life frustrations now in the rearview mirror, it was time to make a move on a third, albeit far more notable one.

I called her "Champagne Coolie"

The turnaround between the two teaching jobs was brief - worked my last day at the first on a Friday and was starting at the second one by Monday - but for all it's brevity, it was a landmark time in my adulthood; it was the weekend I FINALLY got my first car. (The irony here? I'm writing again for the first time in a year, and it's partially born out of my boredom from being temporarily car-less again for these last three weeks. Don't worry, it's not lost on me). 

But there is just no way to possibly overstate how significant an event this was for me. I'm talking in my lifetime, which is sad, of course, but it's one of those things that needles at you more and more the longer you go without it, because in theory, the older you get, the more things you have to do, the more you need reliable transportation. So needless to say, this event was as big a deal as any (losing my virginity, graduating college, etc) for me. Now, while you can't truly appreciate something until you've had and gotten used to it before losing it for awhile (You've made your point, God!), even before I had one, I knew how much it sucked not to. 

Once I got the keys to her, I don't think I sat still very much for at least that first week. I was drunk with power and freedom, and now that I could come and go as I pleased, I was more than happy to do so. I would intentionally only pick up one thing at the grocery store at a time, knowing it meant I'd have to make a return trip soon again for something else. What about gas, you ask? BYE FELICIA. Shut up, I'm not irresponsible, you're irresponsible! 

Name: still TBD. 

Tragically, my tryst with Champagne Coolie was also short, as she met her untimely demise via a cracked engine on the side of a highway somewhere near East Egypt, Missouri. The whole time I had the car, I felt as if I were on borrowed time, for some reason; it just seemed like too nice first a car (at least externally) to last very long, so I wasn't exactly shocked to be replacing her a little less than a month after I got it. That's when I moved onto the bad boy you see on your left. Up until the last few weeks, this is what I've been rolling in, and though it only took 4 months to run into its first major issue, I suppose I'll take that trade over one that comes up in less than 1 month. 

It should be noted that I know LESS than nothing about cars, so both of them have run on my paranoia as much as they do gasoline. It's both a good and bad thing that I have friends that know infinitely more about cars than I do, because I'm constantly asking them what's up the minute something feels anything less than 100% fine. It would be downright embarrassing if my lack of car knowledge weren't thankfully supplemented by actual useful data, like pro wrestling world champions, or how many 5-star high school recruits Mizzou has ever had. Equal trade, I'd say. 

I will say, however, that I wish someone had warned me how expensive owning a car would be before I got one. Between gas (which is thankfully at the lowest it's been in forever), insurance, being towed, tickets, maintenance, inspections, and the like, I'm paying both arms and legs at this point, but in the grand scheme of things, TIS MERELY A FLESH WOUND compared to the pain of not having one again.

With 3 of the 4 major hindrances in my stunted adulthood now (more or less) taken care of, the only thing left is my love life, which I'm glad to report is......

....commensurate with where it was last year, at least. My romantic life at times seems destined to frustrate me in perpetuity, but there are so few constants in this world, so it's nice to have one I can count on, I suppose. You know what they say - the more things change, the more they stay the same. But the window dressing of my life at least halfway resembles that of a real adult's, which is not something I could have always claimed at this time last year, so at least it LOOKS like I have more to offer someone else. It definitely helps to not have to stink of arrested development on at all times, so if part of my year of growth means embracing romantic patience as a virtue, then I can dig it.

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Let's not be confused, folks - I'm FAR from a finished product. But I've definitely grown a lot in the past year, both mentally and physically (which is something of an accomplishment for someone at 26 unless they recreationally wear lifts or break their legs to straighten them, two things I hardly ever do anymore). Still, I'm proud of where I am, for the most part. Not a huge "New Year's Resolutions" guy, but one thing I said I'd do in 2015 was try to write more, and here we are in mid-January with me already having matched last year's output. I might have been slower on the tick with getting a lot of things done as an adult, but if you compress it all into one day, it looks pretty decent. Watch out, kids, I'm apart of polite society now! Until next time, this is Sir Marcus T. Williams signing off...

You crazy kids take care and stay classy out there.